


and if the lights are all down

by interabang



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: Claiming, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-17
Updated: 2014-09-17
Packaged: 2018-02-17 19:56:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2321420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/interabang/pseuds/interabang
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gamora takes what she wants, when she wants it, and that doesn't change with Peter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	and if the lights are all down

**Author's Note:**

> 1) Written for the GotG Kink Meme (prompt [here](http://guardian-kink.livejournal.com/1806.html?thread=294670#t294670).)
> 
> 2) Title is from "One Way Or Another" by Blondie.

The fool shouldn't have gone after her, but he did. He'd pursued her in more ways than one, which didn't surprise Gamora. She was as well-versed in experiencing and inflicting pleasure as well as pain. And she wasn't completely averse to Quill's charms, but he had been... a  _distraction_  on Knowhere. There had been things, more important things, Gamora needed to do. So, she'd stowed away the sensation of him on top of her, under her.   
  
She preferred the latter much more.  
  
The anticipation of being near him resurfaced after their first mission, but Gamora was an expert at the waiting game. Peter was different: he shot her glances that were the complete opposite of furtive, he always stayed close to her during skirmishes and barroom brawls, and he shared a couple of his new songs privately with her. When he flirted, she wanted to be clear across the ship, but when he kept his distance, she yearned for his glances, his attention. She knew she'd reach a breaking point soon.  
  
After they received their latest payment, Rocket suggested celebrating with it. As they docked the ship, a cursory glance of one of Rocket's favorite 'joints' told Gamora it was one of the filthiest, crudest places she had ever seen, and she'd seen her share of seedy. She didn't go, but after spending an hour in total silence checking the fuel gauges and her weapons for the fifth time, she sighed and decided to give into her steadily growing desire. Damn the grime and what the others might say.  
  
Upon walking into the place, the haze of smoke nearly blinded her. Peering around as she let her eyes adjust, she registered Groot and Rocket cheering Drax on as he arm-wrestled a Badoon, then turned her attention to the bar, where she saw...  
  
Peter. Talking. To another woman.  
  
Gamora strode forward. A drunk patron blocked her way, reaching out to paw at her, but she wordlessly broke his wrist and shoved him aside within seconds.  
  
As he howled in pain and stumbled away, she drew closer to Peter, his back facing her.

"Kamarack, huh? Beautiful name for a beautiful woman. Reminds me of the moon I passed by not too long ago."

The woman next to Peter laughed and asked, "I'm sure it does, but what about you? What's your name?"  
  
"Leaving," Gamora said in a low, unyielding tone as she grabbed Peter by the arm and lifted him clear off his stool. He yelped a bit in response, then turned to face Gamora as she dragged him away. "Woah, what are you doing?"  
  
"Don't," she said, and he shut up immediately, falling into step beside her even though she kept a tight grip on him. She was silent all the way back to the ship. To her mild surprise, Peter was too.   
  
Unfortunately, he started speaking again when she closed the entrance hatch and slammed him up against the wall.  
  
"Okay, I know what it looked like in there, but I didn't know if you actually wanted —"  
  
Gamora didn't want his explanations, his words that granted him escape from all sorts of conflict. She pressed herself up right against the firm line of his chest, shoving her hand down his pants.  
  
"Um, hey, I -  _oh_."  
  
She paused to unleash him from his clothes, nearly ripping open seams, and then took him in her hand once more. She squeezed down at the base so firmly that his next bout of flustered words turned into a long, drawn-out groan as he rested his head back against the wall.  
  
Good. He was still being noisy, but at least he stopped talking.  
  
Gamora didn't kiss him; instead, she watched with a vaguely curious, but mostly determined stare. She studied his flushed face, the beads of sweat gathering at his temple, how he bit his lip and shut his eyes as she steadily worked his cock. He hissed through his teeth after a while, so she pulled her hand back up, spit in her palm, then moved it back down to his erection. He sighed in thanks, and she pressed her hip against him as she clutched his hair with her free hand. She stroked faster as he panted and moaned until he came all over the back of her hand.  
  
She released him and turned on her heel, leaving him there, completely undone and absolutely stunned.

 

 

 

Peter thoroughly enjoyed their trysts at first, but Gamora didn't care much about how he felt, so long as one of them reached their peak. The first few times, she put her hands all over him, slapping his away when he tried to touch her too. She decided when, how, and where they did this. Although he didn't say, 'No,' Peter was clearly indignant about being shoved around, kicked to the ground so he could be straddled, and treated like little more than a toy.  _Her_  toy.   
  
Gamora ignored his mild complaints. Contrary to what Peter had initially told her, he would learn soon enough.   
  
She threw him onto his bunk and ground her hips down on him, riding him through their clothes. When she first penetrated him, her slick fingers slid deeper and deeper inside as she told him to lift his ass higher and not to touch himself. The first time she took him inside was on the floor of his quarters; framing him with her thighs, she pinned his wrists and sank down his entire length in one smooth motion. She still didn't kiss him, but bit down on his shoulder, hard, as she came.   
  
After he did, Peter gasped, "You really are gonna kill me one of these days," then chuckled as she traced the marks she'd made on him.  
  
"Maybe," she said, "but at least you'll die happy."  
  
A wide, sleepy smile spread across his face, and he agreed with her.

Then, one day, he didn't.  
  
In fact, he seemed tense, then grew increasingly irritated as she slipped behind him in his bunk. He was tired, he claimed, even as he moved over to make room for her. Between their 'dance sessions' - as he called it around the others - and the team's missions, he wasn't getting much sleep. "Look, Gamora... this is fun, really, but I'm not in the mood tonight," he mumbled before she snaked her hand around his side and down his stomach.  
  
"I mean it," he protested in a harsher tone, but his breath caught in his throat when she wrapped her hand around him. He hardened soon enough, and as she vigorously pumped his cock, she murmured, "This, Peter? Is mine. And so is the rest of you."  
  
He opened his mouth to speak, but she thumbed his tip, circling it, and his words once again died in a moan. "Fuck," he said after spilling over her hand, and she could sense the thickness in his voice, helplessness mingling with burgeoning acceptance.   
  
She pressed herself up against him, watching him ride out the aftershocks, then, before she slid out of his bunk, she said, "Good."  
  
He kept making a point on letting her know when he wasn't 'up for it,' such as the time she swung one leg over him in his captain's chair after the others retired for the night, or when she snuck into the bathroom and found him in the shower: bent over, head down, and palms pressed against the wall, letting the water cascade over the scrapes courtesy of their last job. She silently moved him over so his back rested against the adjacent wall, then carefully lowered herself onto her knees and ignored him sighing in exhaustion, "Really not the best time, Gamora." When she wrapped her lips around him, he cursed both of them once again. After she swirled her tongue around his tip a few times, then took him all the way to the back of her throat, Peter switched to voiceless praises.  
  
She liked him best when he was pliant and begging for her to let him come - " _Please_ , I want, no, I need it so bad," - her hand a tight ring around his thick base. He desperately sunk his fingers deep into her, curling them at the ends as he thumbed her clit. She knew, intuitively, that no matter how far she pushed, how dispassionately she treated him, he'd never lash out and attack her, nor would he abandon her. Instead, he surrendered himself to her more and more.  
  
Over time, he was starting to learn.

 

 

 

After a particularly lengthy briefing in one of the upper private rooms at the Nova headquarters, everyone filed out to head downstairs. Only Gamora and Peter remained seated.  
  
As soon as the door closed on them and the last footfalls faded down the steps, Peter slowly stood up and began to leave.  
  
"Wait," Gamora said, and he paused, one hand on the door's handle.   
  
"Lock it, dim the lights, and come here."  
  
He did as he was told while she rose and lightly rested on the edge of the table.  
  
"Get down," she said when he stood in front of her.  
  
"You've gotta be kidding me."  
  
She cocked her head to one side. "Do I look like I'm joking?"  
  
"Do you ever?" But he went down on his knees in front of her, then paused to rake his fingers through his hair with obvious incredulity.  
  
She arched one of her high brows. "I hope you know what to do."  
  
"Here," he said flatly, looking up at her. "You wanna do this right here."  
  
"I want you to do as you're told. Now."  
  
For a second, it seemed like he would get up and leave. This was the moment, Gamora surmised. The moment where she was really testing him, whether or not he was fully prepared to sign himself over to her, completely and irrevocably.   
  
He reached forward, and unbuttoned her pants.  
  
After he shimmied them off, after she slid backwards and rested on her elbows so she could watch him, she commanded him to start. After he slightly wet his lips and then thoroughly wet hers down below, she called out for him to stop, strip, and switch positions with her.   
  
He sucked in air through his teeth as he lowered his naked body onto the cold, smooth table. "Look, this is... pretty great, actually, but I'm just sayin', that's a glass wall behind you."  
  
"So?" she asked, a touch of amusement creeping into her voice as she crawled up over him, pressing a hand on his chest to make him lie completely down on official Nova Corps property.  
  
"So, if someone comes back..."  
  
"Then they'll see us." She took him in her hand and lined him up with her entrance. Slowly sliding downward, she braced her legs on either side of him, watching his heaving chest and shifting expression. "Is that a problem?"  
  
He opened his eyes to gaze up into hers as she lifted up. "... No."  
  
"Why?" Down.  
  
"'Cause... 'Cause they'll think I'm your sex toy, or whatever."  
  
"Is that what you only think they will believe, or is it what  _you_  believe?" She lifted her hips up so high that he groaned in frustration when she nearly separated from him.  
  
He met her gaze with an equally piercing one. "I believe it."  
  
"Believe what?"  
  
His eyes were dark, but they were also full of surrender. "That I'm yours. That I... That I belong to you."   
  
She went down slowly, drawing it out, watching his eyes roll back as his lids fluttered. “And what can I do to you, Peter?”  
  
“Anything. Anything you want - oh,  _fuck_.”  
  
She quickened her pace, riding him as she spread her hands out across his chest. “When?”  
  
“Anytime.”  
  
"Where?"  
  
"Anywhere," he gasped underneath her, "anyplace you want me."  
  
She nodded once and fell silent, shifting her concentration onto the feel of him, his body shaking underneath her, compliant and yearning, the way he didn't put his hands on her until she told him he could, one wrapping around her hip and rubbing the fingers of his other on her clit in a familiar rhythm. She fucked him faster, harder, canting her hips as she leaned forward and looked into his eyes.  
  
Even after she came, once, twice, biting her lip as she panted and rode Peter on the table where anyone could have seen, she knew he wouldn't dare release until she said so. His threshold of pleasure was guarded by her, and when she thought it was the right moment, she told him he could break through it.  
  
After he did, he breathed out, "Thank you." She kissed him, her Peter, and did not care one bit when she heard a sharp rapping on the wall-sized window behind her.  
  
"Just me here, and I'm keeping my eyes very,  _very_  tightly closed," Rocket called out, his voice partially muffled. "Both you idiots are welcome to join us downstairs. Y'know, whenever you're done  _claiming_  him as yours, Gamora."  
  
"Oh, I don't think she'll ever be done doing that," Peter said loudly.   
  
"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Freakin' animals," Rocket muttered as he left.  
  
Gamora smiled.


End file.
